Solbidyum Wars Saga 9: At What Price

by Dale Musser

  “There were signs,” said Kala. “I just didn’t connect all the clues and see them for what they were.”

  “What will you do now, Tibby?” asked Cantolla.

  “I’ll continue doing what I have done all along,” I said. “I’ll keep searching for Ming and fight the Brotherhood until they’re gone or until I’m dead. I don’t see that I have any other choice.”

  I was about halfway through my treatment when my comlink beeped. Kala answered it for me. It was Marranalis alerting me there had been another disease canister attack by the Brotherhood on the planet Dandcay. Three cylinders were dropped, one on each of the world’s three continents. At the same time, synchronized body-bomber attacks took place at nearly a dozen Cantolla Gate hubs on different worlds. Ming was ramping up his game of terror. He wanted to make fear and uncertainty dwell in every moment of every life that existed under the umbrella of the Federation.

  There was little I could do, as I was in the middle of my treatment. My veins coursed with liquid fire, yet I trembled and shivered like I was freezing. It would be several hours before I would be restored enough to function normally. I managed enough strength to tell Marranalis that I trusted his judgment and leadership and that he would have to handle things in my stead. I said that if anyone asked my whereabouts to say simply that I was exhausted and ill, but I was expected to be well enough to resume my duties in the morning. I just hoped that nothing more would happen that night and that I would be back to normal by morning.

  That night I was plagued with nightmares. Every aspect of every dream was overwhelmed with chaos as people were dying of plague-like diseases all around me and asteroid-ships attacked from above. Women were screaming as Brotherhood troopers dragged them away to slave ships, while Ming sat on a golden throne, laughing at the Federation senators, who were forced to bow down before him. I woke up to find myself standing in the living room of our suite on the NEW ORLEANS. I must have gotten out of bed and walked into the room in my sleep.

  “Tib, are you alright?” Kala called to me from the bedroom.

  “I’m not sure,” I answered, still frog-voiced and bewildered.

  “What’s wrong? Why did you go to the living room?”

  “I don’t know. I just woke up and found myself standing here.”

  “I heard you get up, but I thought you were going to the toilet, only you went the other direction instead,” Kala said as she came to my side. She put her arm around me and then drew back. “Tib, your soaked in sweat again. Come on. Let me get you into the shower.”

  “I was having a terrible dream,” I said as she turned on the mist. “I was dreaming Ming was sitting on a throne of gold and all the senators were bowing down to him. People were dying of diseases all around me and Brotherhood ships were attacking the planet.”

  “It was just a dream, Tib, now take your shower. Would you like me to get you something to drink? Some Okaia juice perhaps?”

  “Okaia juice sounds good.” I cheated and ran the shower through two cycles. Sometimes three minutes just wasn’t enough time to make me feel clean. I don’t care what the Federation scientists said.

  When I stepped out of the shower, Kala was waiting with an appetizing glass of peach-colored liquid. I sipped it slowly, savoring the taste and enjoying the refreshing coolness as it slid down my throat.

  “Thank you,” I muttered. “I needed that.”

  As I tipped the glass of juice, I could see Kala appraising me. Her expression was hard to read.

  “Tib, I think you should step down from service. Let someone else run the military. We can relax and take the NEW ORLEANS and travel outside the Federation and come back after the war is over or when Ming is dead, whichever comes first. Why do you need to be the one to do this?”

  I sighed as I emptied my glass and gazed at my beautiful Kala, trying to think of the best way to answer her question. “Back on Earth there was a religion that taught partly through parables or stories. One of those lessons was, ‘To whom much is given, much will be required.’ I don’t know anyone who has been given more than I have.”

  Kala smiled and nodded slightly. “It wouldn’t matter anyway. Knowing you, you would still do the same thing, even if you had nothing.”

  By the time I arrived at the War Room the next morning, hundreds of thousands of people on Dandcay were already ill. Like the other planets that had been canister-bombed, Dandcay had been immediately quarantined and no one was allowed to leave the planet. Several ships had tried but were immediately apprehended and told to stay on orbit or be fired upon. One ship defied orders and Federation forces were unfortunately forced to destroy it. It was unclear as yet how many persons were aboard the orbiting ships.

  The news media were reporting that citizens throughout the Federation were in panic, fearing the possibility that disease-bearing cylinders would be dropped on their worlds. Some individuals had purchased their own HAZMAT suits in hopes of surviving the attacks. However, these were of little value unless we found a way to get unexposed people off the infected worlds. Cantolla and A’Lappe and the interagency team appeared to be making progress with Rory’s idea, until it was discovered that the effective kill frequency would also kill humans. It would be possible to disinfect an unoccupied area, such as a room or ship, but a person in a HAZMAT suit would be killed, if the suit were to be sterilized with them inside it.

  My luck was running out. In the past, it seemed that every crisis was met with a solution at the last moment or just by chance someone or something came through with the answer to our problem. Kerabac had accidentally discovered cloaking technology just when we needed a way to get aboard the DUSTEN. Cantolla was able to enhance the learning headbands in time to teach troopers martial arts before the early battles against the Brotherhood. At Goo’Waddle, Padaran’s knowledge of Ruwallie Rasson customs and his martial arts skills had seemed to magically come to the rescue when we thought we were through. Later, the advent of A’Lappe’s powerful 10X fusion reactor provided us with enough compact energy sources use the known technology of the RMFF on our warships, just enough to keep us one step ahead of the enemy. He also came to our rescue with the faster Gravity Wave engines, discovered the solbidnite and created the PLABE weapon and dozens of other amazing inventions, not to mention the fact that he saved Kala’s life and my life more than once. Jenira had become legendary as a swordswoman and a protector and had in some measure played a role in changing the course of the war. The discovery of the Cantolla Gates once again happened at the right moment to keep us on an even standing with the Brotherhood, though Ming’s scientists had since closed that gap and were using their newfound knowledge in devastating ways.

  Yes, it looked as though the last of my good fortune had run out. I could see no forthcoming miracles of chance or technology that were going to save the Federation – or me, for that matter. My health was failing and I had a feeling that there would be no getting well, despite the expertise and unrelenting dedication of A’Lappe and Cantolla. My life was ebbing away. I only prayed that I could bring about Ming’s death and an end to the Brotherhood before I died.

  I wasn’t surprised when I received a call from Leader Pheosa shortly before midday. He wanted to know what progress we were making with cures and vaccines and what plans I had to stop the Brotherhood from more canister bombings. He showed signs of irritation when I told him that so far all our ideas had met with failure and that we were no closer to coming up with a method of stopping the canister bombings than the last time we had spoken.

  “Admiral, I’m not going to lie to you. People are becoming very upset and fearful. They’re demanding action and they aren’t seeing any progress. This kind of frustration can lead to civil unrest.”

  “I’m aware of that and we’re doing all we can, but frankly, sir, we are having no success with this disease of Ming’s.”

  “Admiral, I can’t guarantee what the people will do if you don’t come up with something soon,” said Pheosa. “They’re used to you
saving them and they expect it again now. Some are starting to claim you don’t care about them anymore.”

  “Leader Pheosa, I understand, but there is only so much we can do. It may be possible that there is no cure for this disease and no defense to keep the Brotherhood from continuing to use it. I have every expert in the military and on my personal staff working on the matter. With all due respect, sir, any layperson who has pertinent education or experience in the matter should be offering their assistance rather than their complaints and threats. And as far as those threats against me are concerned, whether they come from the citizens or the Senate, they are welcome to petition that I be removed from my post, if that’s what is being insinuated, but that won’t stop me from doing everything I can to cure this pestilence and destroy the Brotherhood. Everyone seems to forget that this is my home too.”

  Leader Pheosa sat in silence, somewhat stunned at my response. I calmed my tone somewhat as I continued my explanation.

  “Sir, I truly don’t believe there is a cure or vaccine for this pathogen. Don’t think for a moment that Ming isn’t above sending his own subjects to their death in order to collect and package this stuff on the moon where we have learned that it thrives. Life, be it friend or foe, means nothing to Ming at all. The death of one of his subjects means as little to him as that of one of the Federation’s.”

  “By the stars,” Pheosa muttered. “How does he keep his minions from rising up and killing him?”

  “Well, we’ve talked about the slavery and blackmail, drugs and brainwashing, but really it begins with the introduction of fear – absolute, primal fear like you and I have never known,” I replied.

  Finally, Pheosa exclaimed in frustration, “Do what you can, Admiral, and may the stars be with us if we fail.” With that he terminated his call and the vid screen went blank.

  All human life on Agraious and Frandee was now gone. The crews on the few ships that had escaped into orbit had been infected, even though they were unaware of it when they left the surface, and had since died in space. On my orders their ships were destroyed to prevent anyone from inadvertently boarding them and becoming infected in the future. No one knew how long the pathogen remained infectious and until we knew, we couldn’t take any risks. On Dandcay the disease was now in full plague state. Its rate of dissemination defied explanation. It seemed that the organism reproduced or propagated by every known means and wasn’t limited to transmission by way of contact, inhalation or ingestion. It was almost as though the pathogen was ambulatory and could seek out and direct itself to victims.

  Everyone across the entire expanse of the Federation was concerned about the germ warfare attacks. The government set up large rewards for anyone who came up with positive ways of dealing with the attacks that protected the citizens. Millions of suggestions were submitted. Most of them were completely impractical and provided only temporary protection, consisting essentially of trapping an uninfected person inside an isolated chamber with no possibility of being rescued safely. No one had been able to present a viable means of dealing with the infectious disease once it was contracted, nor had anyone come up with a cure.

  The day after my meeting with Pheosa I was sitting in my office on the GLOMAR ROSA going over the reports of deaths and illnesses on Dandcay, when Marranalis entered to tell me that Admiral Nugallie wished to see me. Nugallie was one of the new admirals serving in the Fourth Fleet who had risen rapidly through the ranks. He seemed to be well-liked by his men, even though he was somewhat aloof in the social sense.

  “What does he want?” I asked Marranalis.

  “Sir, he said it has to do with detecting the enemy before they attack and drop canisters on Federation planets.”

  “Hm. Bring him in. Let’s hear what he has to say.”

  When Nugallie entered I had to blink my eyes to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on me. Nugallie appearance was like that of a younger Stonbersa. He had the same tan skin and white hair. Even his eyebrows were white. I had always assumed Stonbersa’s white hair was from age. It never occurred to me that it might be a natural hair color for some people on his home world.

  “Have a seat, Admiral,” I said, once we had dispensed with the formalities of military greetings. “Admiral Marranalis tells me you have some ideas about developing some new planetary defenses against these canister attacks.”

  “Well, it’s not really a new idea,” began Nugallie. “It’s more of a question as to why we aren’t doing more to detect the Brotherhood before they attack the planets.”

  “Go on,” I said, when he paused longer than I thought necessary.

  “Well, sir, we know from our own experience that it takes time to set up a Stellar Cantolla Gate. If we focus our efforts on locating those gates when they go operational we’ll have a small window of time to respond and destroy any ship that comes through. If we’re lucky, we may even be able to slip a ship back through their gate before they close it.”

  I sat frozen in my seat staring at him. He was right. We'd been busy focusing on the problems on the ground after the infection was already doing its damage and we were totally neglecting how the Brotherhood got the canister-bombs there in the first place. If we detected the Brotherhood ships before they could reach the atmospheres of these worlds, we could destroy them and vaporize the canisters. If the gates were still open, we might be able to get a cloaked ship or two through their gate and to their staging area. Once there, our ships could stealthily retreat to an adjacent area and set up our own stellar gates that could be used to attack them on their home territory as we had been trying to plan all along.

  “Admiral?” Nugallie’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

  “Oh, sorry, Admiral,” I said. “I was thinking about what you just said and your right. We should be focusing on the preemptive strikes. I’m afraid we’ve all been so terrified of this disease and trying to deal with it on the ground that we haven't given this approach the attention we should. Stellar gate tracking is something we have the technology to do, but it's not well defined. I think our methods could be enhanced to make them more accurate. It would require cloaked fighters and patrol ships in outer orbits ready to respond quickly to any threat, but I think we could manage that with the joint cooperation of planetary forces. Tell me, how much thought have you put into this? Have you developed any specific ideas or strategies as to how this should be done?”

  “I’ve given it a fair amount of thought and I’ve come up with some ideas as to how to implement it,” he said with an air of confidence.”

  “Good, because as of now I’m reassigning you to work here on the GLOMAR ROSA with some of my staff and a team of scientists to develop a procedure for quickly identifying a new Cantolla Gate as it is being set up and implement a plan of attack for destroying enemy ships that come through those gates. I also want a plan developed whereby we might be able to slip the necessary cloaked patrol ships through their gates with our own gate components. Admiral Marranalis will help you get things set up. Oh, and well done, Admiral.”

  Once Nugallie left. I called A’Lappe.

  “What can I do for you, Tibby?” he asked as soon as his image appeared on the vid screen.

  “I’m hoping you and Rory can find a way to enhance the detection capacity of the devices we use to discover a Cantolla Gate. I need it as quickly as possible.”

  “That’s more Cantolla’s department than Rory’s and mine,” said A’Lappe.

  “Yes, but it can be done, can’t it?” I said.

  “Well, theoretically, yes. However, I don’t know how long it will take, especially with all the other ongoing projects of priority.” I knew that A’Lappe was referring primarily to the manic search for answers that would halt Ming’s deadly pathogen, as well as his and Cantolla’s search for a lifesaving treatment that would restore my nervous system.

  “I understand,” I said and then went on to explain Admiral Nugallie’s idea. I finished by saying, “Delegate as many aspects of the projects
you’re working on to others so you and Cantolla can focus on the most difficult parts. All I know is, if we can detect and stop the Brotherhood as they come out of their stellar gates, maybe we won’t have to worry about them dropping any more of those damned canisters. I know I’m asking a lot of all of you, but we’re at a pivotal point in the war with the Brotherhood and victory or defeat hangs in the balance. Do all you can.”

  “We’ll give it our best effort,” said A’Lappe. “But I can’t make any promises.”

  I was about to get a bowl of noodles from a food synthesizer, when Marranalis bounded through the door.

  “Sir, we’re currently getting reports of asteroid-ship attacks on four worlds. In addition, there are reports of aerial attacks and body-bombers at gate hubs on about a dozen worlds. They all began simultaneously.”

  “What about canister attacks?” I asked apprehensively.

  “None reported thus far.”

  “Were any of our ships able to respond to the attacks from space?

  “We had ships in the area, but by the time they got to the attack sites, the enemy ships had already slipped back through their stellar gates and closed their gates.”

  Something about these Brotherhood gates bothered me. “Where do you think they’re getting the power for their gates?” I asked. “It takes a lot of power to operate a stellar gate. We’re using solbidnite for ours, but I don’t believe the Brotherhood has any, except for the few grains they may have recovered when capturing Federation ships, I suppose. A’Lappe is the only one who knows the location of the solbidnite field, so what are they using? Have we ever been able to retrieve one of their gate nodes? I asked.

  “We’ve generally been destroying one of the three nodes of any gates we can locate, so the Brotherhood can’t use them to return a second time,” replied Marranalis. “But we have yet to recover a primary node that carries the main power source. We’ve been trying to retrieve one of these nodes since the Brotherhood started using their own gates in the Malpy System.”